


An Outlaw's Downfall

by itsthewinedude



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsthewinedude/pseuds/itsthewinedude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before his voyage to Neverland as a naval officer, Killian Jones led quite a different life. His love for one girl ultimately leads to both their downfalls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Archer

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if this is a bit rusty. It's late, and I'm a bit of a night owl. As mentioned, this is a story that I started quite some time ago after Hook was introduced and the show hit its mid-season finale. While I expected Robin Hood to show up eventually, I had the idea for this story and wanted so badly to write it. Yes, I realize I have a thing for background stories as well. AND original characters!

**The Archer**

"Archers – take your mark."

The crowd's chattering died down at the announcement, the commonfolk watching in anticipation as the contestants raised their bows, taking aim. Prince John sat among them, surrounded by nobles and a couple of guards in disguise, eyes scanning each archer's features in hopes that he'd be able to identify one as that nuisance that had been plaguing his kingdom as of late. Though archery tournaments were a common occurrence, they were usually a segment among other competitions reserved for the May Games. However, a deal with a certain dark entity ensured that this nuisance would certainly be lured in by promises of riches in the one area where he was skilled most.

"Fire!"

Each archer shot their arrow in unison, and a mix of cries of excitement and disappointed was made by the peasants sitting up front. Those who missed completely or shot much too far from the bulls eye were escorted away from the field. Two rounds and three archers remained. One, he knew, was one of his own guards, whom he had instructed to miss the second round completely in order to narrow down the possible contenders.

The archer at the center seemed much too elderly – hunched over, face marked with scars. John would have thought is possible had he not heard that Robin Hood was in fact no older than his early twenties.

He'd also completely dismissed the possibility of the third contender being Robin altogether. He was small, and clad in foreigner's clothing – an Arabian headpiece that connected to a veil that partially covered his face, with the exception of his eyes. He wore a tunic connected to a pair of  _sirwal_  pants and black boots. Judging by his stature, the boy couldn't have been any older than his early teens. Perhaps a foreigner giving the tournament a try in order to win its reward for his family – such an attempt was rare, but possible. No matter. The winner would enjoy the small fortune for only a short time before John found a way to gain it all back again.

The young prince leaned back in his throne, rage and frustration slowly burning through him. That damned Dark One hadn't fulfilled his end of the bargain, and all the planning and preparation had been for nothing. John lifted his goblet of ale to his lips, ignoring his guard's forfeiting of the second round, and took a couple of gulps before slamming it down.

"Pardon me, excuse me." He heard a gruff voice mutter, and looked to his left to find a noble weeding his way through to an empty seat just beside his daughter, Marian. The man was fair-haired and broad-shouldered, obviously made for battle, though John didn't recognize him. The man bowed his head, the confined space making it impossible for the large man to bow properly, "My King. Forgive my late arrival. The Duke of Chutney, forever at your service."

"Ah, yes," John waved his hand dismissively. He didn't recognize the Duke, but many nobles came from all around to watch the games. "A shame, though, that you've missed two out of three rounds already."

"No matter," the man chortled, "I've come for the ale and women in the festivities that are sure to follow."

Prince John chuckled in response and waved a servant girl over to offer a goblet to the Duke. "Now, judging by the appearance of these two, who do you wager will win this tournament? In addition to my generous reward, I've also offered my daughter's hand in marriage. It seems all we have left here is a man who nears death and a boy who is much too young to have knowledge of the comforts a woman can offer."

The Duke gave another roar of laughter as Marian let out a groan, but remained silent as the archers prepared for the final round. The elderly man went first, and shot the arrow through the bulls eye with flawless precision. The boy had absolutely no chance, but the crowd seemed to offer him the benefit of the doubt and held back on cheering.

"What are the odds, your majesty?" The Duke asked. A shifting at his side alerted John that Marian had vacated her seat, and the noble had taken her place.

"Whatever the odds, it seems my dear daughter has fallen out of luck. As have I."

The young archer seemed relaxed as he readied his bow, aiming for the target. The crowd watched in anticipation, perhaps just to give the young lad a glimmer of hope. John signaled for his guards to move out of their designated areas. A few had remained hidden in order to ambush the notorious thief had he shown up.

"Fire!"

The boy released his arrow, and the crowd gasped. John's eyes widened as the arrow split the old man's own arrow in half and took its place at the very center of the bulls eye. A deafening silence followed for what seemed like a solid minute before John's chuckle broke the silence. He stood, applauding. After the audience had their moment of stunned silence, they soon began to applaud as well until John signaled for silence.

"Splendid, boy! Come. Approach the stands."

The boy silently obeyed, approaching his king and stopping just in between a guard and John's sheriff. "As promised, you shall receive your reward, as well as my daughter's hand in marriage. Now, what is your name?"

"You know very well."

Prince John's head snapped back to the alleged Duke and froze before the sharp blade of a great sword sliced his throat. The sound of swords being drawn surrounded the field, and John had only a moment to realize that aside from his guards, other men sporadically placed in the crowd also began to draw their own weapons.

The imposter tapped the sword under Prince John's chin, a grin crossing his features as he spoke, "I'd suggest you make your men back off, else you wish to get your head sliced off right here and now, your highness. And your daughter's hand in marriage won't be necessary. The gold will suffice."

John's insides burned with rage, but for the first time since his brother had left for the Crusades and he had taken his place as rightful king, he felt helpless. His words were a low hiss through clenched teeth, "You're no Duke."

"They call me John. Quite the coincidence, I know."

"John…" Prince John had only heard the name once before. It took every ounce of self-control not to roar in outrage as his head snapped back at the young archer, ignoring the nick of the blade against his jawline. " _You_ …"

The boy grabbed the turban adorning his head and threw it to the ground, as well as the attached piece that had been covering his face. A cold shock welled up inside Prince John as he took in the dark, braided hair and feminine facial features. A pair of almond-shaped green eyes framed by straight eyebrows stared up at him, a delicate nose pointed skyward in defiance. It couldn't be…

"Robin Hood, your majesty," if the features hadn't given it away, the feminine tone of her voice had, "At your service."

Prince John didn't have time to react further, as the hilt of Little John's sword hit the back of his head, and he fell into darkness.


	2. Partners

** Partners **

Robin held a hand in the air as John tossed the bag of gold her way, catching it with ease before turning, and yelling "Run, men!" The guards seemed to still be gathering their wits as she darted past them, but the sound of armor clanking against weapons suggested they were recovering and heading for the kill.

The plan had been simple enough: show up, win the competition, take the gold and leave. Robin hadn't been prepared for the last minute betrothal to that cow, Maid Marian.

_No matter_. She thought. Plans changed and she and her men loved a challenge. Especially when dealing with that imposter, Prince John.

"Stop! In the name of the king!"

Robin snorted at the command, but a grab at her ankle caused her to fall forward and wiped the smirk clean off her face as she fell face-first onto the muddy ground with a  _thud_. Pain radiated from her chin downward, as well as other parts of her body that had taken the worst of the fall.

It took a second for her vision to focus before she turned her head to view her captor. A guard, of course, helmet still intact and heavy metal armor caked in the mud he'd fallen in in his desperate attempt to grab her.

Robin slowly rolled onto her back as the guard straightened and planted his feet on either side of her, extending his sword out and placing the pointed end just below her chin. "Don't move! You're under arrest!" Her chest rose and fell with labored pants – a mix of exhaustion from the run, and an attempt to keep calm despite the pain from the fall.

Her eyes scanned the area behind him. She'd gotten far enough into Sherwood Forest, as planned. Her men would be busy at the moment, warding off the other guard, and if the townspeople in the crowd hadn't run off, she was sure a riot would have broken out. These were, in fact, the people she'd dedicated her life to protecting, after all.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get up!"

"You told me not to move,  _sir_." Robin answered dully. She rolled her eyes, but stopped as the glint of sun reflecting off an object drew her attention back to the ground. Her arrows had fallen, of course, and lay scattered about. Only one arrow lay within reach, balancing on a small boulder. If only she could…

"Well, get up!" The guard growled.

An idea dawned on her just then, and Robin was more than happy to obey the command this time around, ignoring the pain in her knees as she hoisted herself up on wobbly legs. Running was definitely out of the question for now. The sharp blade of the sword remained just below her chin. One stupid mistake could easily cost her life.

"So, you've got me." Robin said loud enough for the sound of her voice to carry out throughout the woods. "What now?"

The man remained silent. Good lord, they sure didn't pick the brightest men to guard His Royal Pain. This one must have been one of Marian's brutes.

Before he could answer, the sound of a twig snapping echoed back – just the signal Robin had been waiting for; its desired effect was successful as the guard's head snapped back, distracted for just a second, and…

Remaining on the spot, Robin lifted her foot and let it fall, hitting the tip of the arrow and causing it to fly up and spin wildly in the air before she grabbed at it. Her reflexes proved much quicker than the guard's, and no sooner had he turned back around had she jammed the pointed end of the weapon into his side. Not too deep so as to cause damage, but deep enough to give her the opportunity to jam her injured elbow into the side of his neck, causing him to topple down and hit the ground with a loud  _thump_. Out cold.

Robin kicked the sword out of his grasp, and planted her hands on her hips, leaning back against the nearest tree to catch her breath as she examined the man, making sure he was out cold. She extended her leg to prod at the guard's helmet with her foot, ears perking when she heard another twig snap. "You can come out now."

She expected John or Will. The two kept a close eye on her since her father's death in the and he'd made them promise to keep an eye on her no matter what. And keep an eye on her they did. Constantly. Even at the most inconvenient moments.

A glance up revealed that it was neither, however. In fact, the man approaching her hadn't been any of her "Merry Men". She remained still, a smirk playing her lips as her eyes scanned over his all-too familiar appearance. Dark head of hair with neatly-trimmed and shaven facial hair to match. At least a foot taller than her, and broad-chested. He was dressed in his usual sheriff's attire – a black tunic over a white shirt, black gauntlet gloves, and black breeches tucked into his boots.

"Well, if it isn't my arch-nemesis. The Sheriff of Nottingham," Robin announced in a mocking tone, shedding the outfit she wore to disguise herself at the competition, now caked in mud, and revealing her signature shirt, vest, breeches and boots. Definitely not customary for a lady, but comfortable enough for getting about. "Where are my men?"

"Distracted." He answered simply, "Fled after the townspeople rioted as, I'm sure, you predicted."

"As they were instructed to do so," She eyed him as he leaned down and snatched the stolen bag of gold, "I'm always prepared, sheriff."

"How many times must I tell you, lass? No need for formalities." He stood less than a foot away from her, reaching up to grasp her neck, pinning her against the tree, "It's Killian."

Robin grinned despite herself, cocking an eyebrow at the man as her voice lowered, "You didn't seem to mind 'sheriff' last night, now did you?"

His gaze softened, as did his grip, and he began to chuckle. She heard the gold hit the ground, and no sooner had he released his grip altogether before planting his hands on either side of her head and leaning in, his lips descending on hers for an all-too-familiar passionate kiss.


	3. Runaways

 

**Runaways**

_Robin stepped into the cool, fresh waters of the spring and released a content sigh as she sank down. John and Will had promised her "lady time" for thirty minutes at most. As enthusiastic as she'd been over the idea of stealing back the people's money when Prince John raised taxes, she hadn't been quite used to the dirt and sweat that accompanied the task._

_John had spent a month training her in archery –picking up where her father had left off before leaving for the Crusades. Will Scarlet spent another month teaching her a few sword tricks, but Robin had always taken a liking to archery. It offered protection from a safer distance. Still, as much as she'd loved training with her father's old friends, it just hadn't been the same._

_There'd been a void in her heart that she had tried filling since then. Prince John's reign once his brother – and rightful king, Richard – had left to battle in the Crusades offered her a chance to do just that. Be it love, adoration or companionship, she needed to occupy her time to keep from reliving the moment when she'd learned of her father's death._

_Robin sank underneath the spring's crystal clear surface and came back up, smoothing back her stubborn chestnut locks. That was another dilemma she'd have to get used to. Unkempt hair._

" _Well, this is unexpected."_

_Robin gasped at the male voice and instantly moved to cover her bared chest, head whipping almost painfully to see whom it was._

_She recognized him immediately as the new sheriff, Killian Jones, appointed by Prince John as his personal right hand man and bodyguard. And if looks could kill, this…very handsome Killian Jones would be on the floor at that moment._

_"This is hardly gentlemanly behavior, my_ lord _." She hissed out his appointed title through gritted teeth, making sure he'd be able to identify that she didn't mutter it out of respect."_

" _You would know about gentlemanly behavior, now wouldn't you?" He removed his sword from its sheath, and Robin's heart leapt in fear for a moment, until she realized the sword wasn't meant for her. Yet._

_He used the pointed end to lift her neatly-folded tunic from her pile of clothing on the ground. There had been Wanted posters of her by now, a similar tunic drawn on the body of a man. "I thought I'd finally caught the infamous Robin Hood. I must say, I'm pleasantly surprised. I thought it a bit funny that he'd prefer such tight-fitting trousers."_

_Dear God. Her cover was blown. How could she have been so careless?_

" _So, what now?" She muttered, "Are you going to arrest me? Here? Now?"_

_Jones cocked an eyebrow at her and tossed her tunic back on the ground before placing his sword back into its sheath. "I'd much rather sit here and watch. Go on, then. Carry on."_

_Robin narrowed her eyes at him and snatched a stone from the edge of the spring before tossing it in his direction. Of course, he caught it before it could do any minimal damage. "You're disgusting."_

_A deep chuckle escaped his lips, and Robin's shoulders slumped in astonishment when he didn't pursue, but turned and walked away instead, calling out to her. "This is going to be fun. I suggest you be a little wary next time around." He raised a hand, calling out as he disappeared past the trees, "We'll meet again, Robin Hood."_

* * *

"What's on your mind, lass?"

Robin glanced over to see Killian had finally woken up. It was the dead of night, though the small fire they'd built continued to crackle, casting a warm glow over them. They'd been too preoccupied with each other to make camp, and had managed only to start a fire and lay out a couple of sleeping essentials, using their clothing as pillows.

She rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows as he shifted beside her, resting on his side while tracing a finger over her the curve of spine. "I was thinking about my father."

"Your father? I made love to you not too long ago, and you're thinking of your father."

Despite the fact that her father was still a sore subject, Robin couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "And the day we met."

"Ah, yes." He nodded, recalling that day, "Imagine my surprise when I was set on capturing a wanted fugitive and discovered that said fugitive also happened to be a beautiful woman. A weakness of mine."

She smiled at his words. They recounted the day they met plenty of times, and he'd always begin with 'Imagine my surprise…'

"Yes, well, I suppose you're no better; associating with a fugitive and all."

"No definitely not," he replied, removing his hand from her back and reaching over to grab the pouch of gold he'd helped her obtain. "You know, we can take this and leave. Start a new life. I hear the Enchanted Forest is only a days' trip if we head north through Sherwood Forest. We wouldn't have to worry about King John and his men. We could be together."

His expression had softened considerably as he spoke, and Robin's heart ached at his words. "I have a duty to these people until King Richard returns. No one else is brave enough to step in."

"What about John? Will? Friar Tuck can offer refuge when needed."

"They promised my father they'd keep a close eye on me. If I go, so do they." Robin let her head fall forward, her dark locks shielding her face so he wouldn't see her sullen expression. "Just give it time, Killian. You won't have to deal with this once John is overthrown." She cleared her throat and shifted to her side, facing away from him, "Now sleep, lad. I've got taxes to return tomorrow."

* * *

"Be safe," he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. This had been their routine since they'd grown fond of each other and spent their first night together. His wish for her to remain safe was also a promise to lead any of Prince John's men away if anyone got suspicious.

"I will be," Robin responded, as she always did, tilting her head up to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and heading to town. She hated long goodbyes.

She'd donned a peasant's dress and cloak today, knowing the prince as his men would recognize her by now. As a result, she'd attempted to look like a commoner, keeping the stolen gold hidden under a bundle of apples. Her men had left these necessities nearby where they knew she'd be staying with Killian.

Her day had been successful, as the townspeople recognized her long before she finally decided to reveal herself. She only had one more home to visit before returning to her camp in the forest.

A familiar fair-haired boy opened the door to greet her just before she was about to knock. Robin offered him a kind smile; "I hear it's your birthday today."

The boy nodded excitedly and was soon joined by his parents – an elderly couple who'd tried for years to conceive a child, and succeeding before they hit middle age out of some miracle.

Robin approached the mother and placed five gold pieces in her palm, closing the woman's fragile fingers over them, "The prince's reward was generous at the competition. I may be traveling soon, so this should be enough until I come back. Friar Tuck has the rest and will continue distributing them while I'm gone."

"Bless you, child." The woman thanked, embracing Robin. "Your father was a good man. He would have been."

"Thank you," Robin replied, swallowing back tears and turning back to the couple's little boy, "Now. I have a present for you."

She reached into her cloak and removed her bow and set of arrows from under her arm. "I hear you'd like to be one of my Merry Men when you're older. And in order to be one, you're going to need to learn how to wield a bow and arrow. Use it with caution until I get back, and I'll give you a few lessons."

Robin ruffled the little boy's blonde locks and added, "I've already got a John with me as well. So to avoid confusion, how about we call you Little John? How does that sound?"

"Well…that's good for now, but I won't be little forever." He said matter-of-factly, adding, "Thank you!" And giving her a hug before accepting his gift and taking the set back into his home, shouting, "I'll be the best Merry Man in all of Nottingham!"

Robin laughed and nodded at his parents' thanks before turning and making her way back into the forest, nodding as the townspeople muttered their goodbyes.

Once she reached the forest, she began shedding the heavy cloak and dress, revealing her breeches, boots and tunic underneath. The sun would soon be setting and she had an hour at most to meet Killian at their spot before the entire forest became pitch black.

She was going to do it. John had encouraged her to follow her heart, and assured her that her father would want happiness for her, first and foremost. Friar Tuck had offered his blessings and promised to help care for the townspeople while she was gone. It wouldn't be permanent. She just needed some time now that she revealed her identity to the noblemen.

And the opportunity to start a life, worry-free, with Killian was tempting as well. Though they hadn't expressed their love directly just yet, they both knew it was there. She saw it in the way he looked at her, and the way his eyes softened just as they had the night before.

_Snap_.

Robin's thoughts were so occupied that she hadn't realized she'd walked straight into a trap until it was too late. She yelped as she triggered a trip-wire that activated a noose. Before she could escape, the rope had tightened around one ankle and pulled her up high enough so that she wasn't able to reach the ground. To add to her dismay, her knife had fallen out of her pocket as the trap hauled her upwards, arrows spilling out of her quiver soon after.

She tried lifting herself up, but the injuries from her fall the day before interfered and she settled for dangling hopelessly above the forest grounds. She didn't call out for help for fear that her captor would turn out to be one of Prince John's men. Instead, she forced herself to calm down and think.

However, her thoughts were soon interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone's footsteps, snapping twigs on the forest floor as they approached her.


End file.
